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Updated: June 14, 2025
Killenhall, now in mourning garments, in company with a little man whom Viner at once recognized as a well-known tradesman of Westbourne Grove a florist and fruiterer named Barleyfield, who was patronized by all the well-to-do folk of the neighbourhood. He smiled and bowed as Viner entered the room, and turned to Miss Wickham as if suggesting that she should explain his presence. "Oh, Mr.
Viner and Barleyfield walked into a little snugly furnished sitting-room; the landlord followed and closed the door. "Do you happen to know the name of the gentleman who was speaking to you just now?" asked Viner, going straight to his point. "I've a very particular reason for wishing to know it." "No more idea than I have of yours, sir," replied the landlord with a shrewd glance.
"Nothing easier, sir open to one and all!" "Then, if you've the time to spare, we'll go now," said Viner. He lingered behind a moment to tell Miss Wickham of Mr. Pawle's appointment for the morning, and then went away with Barleyfield in the Notting Hill direction. "I suppose you've been at the Grey Mare since Mr. Ashton's death?" he asked as they walked along.
Ashton made him think of bygone England, you know, Mr. Viner." "And you say he went there regularly?" asked Viner. "I've seen him there a great deal, sir, for I usually turn in there for half an hour or so, myself, of an evening, when business is over and I've had my supper," answered Barleyfield. "I should say that he went there four or five nights a week."
Barleyfield, who had obviously attired himself in his Sunday raiment for the purposes of his call, and had further shown respect for the occasion by wearing a black cravat, smiled as he looked from the two ladies to Viner. "Well, Mr. Viner," he answered, "I'll tell you what it is it may help a bit in clearing up things, for I understand there's a great deal of mystery about Mr. Ashton's death.
"Once or twice, sir," replied Barleyfield. "And you've no doubt heard the murder discussed?" suggested Viner. "I've heard it discussed hard enough, sir, there and elsewhere," replied the florist. "But at the Gray Mare itself, I don't think anybody knew that this man who'd been murdered was the same as the grey-bearded gentleman who used to drop in there sometimes.
"Lord bless you, folks may come in here for a year or two, and unless they happen to be neighbours of mine, I don't know who they are. Now, there's your friend there," he went on, indicating Barleyfield with a smile, "I know his face as that of a customer, but I don't know who he is!
Ashton very well indeed he was a good customer of mine, and sometimes he'd stop and have a bit of chat with me. And I can tell you where he very often spent an hour or two of an evening." "Yes where?" asked Viner. "At the Grey Mare Inn, sir," answered Barleyfield promptly. "I have often seen him there myself." "The Grey Mare Inn!" exclaimed Viner, while Mrs.
Remembering that Barleyfield had said that the man who now entered had been in Ashton's company in that very room on the evening of the murder, Viner looked at him with keen interest and speculation. He was a tall, well-built, clean-shaven man, of professional appearance and of a large, heavy, solemn face the evidently usual pallor of which was deepened by his black overcoat and cravat.
You wouldn't like me to find out this gentleman's name? Somebody'll know him. My own idea is that he lives in this part he began coming in here of an evening about a year since." "No do nothing at present," said Viner. "The inquiries are only beginning." He impressed the same obligation of silence on Barleyfield as they went away, and the florist readily understood.
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